


Captain Sato's Enterprise

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-05
Updated: 2007-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Same ship, same crew, but different.





	1. Captain Hoshi Sato

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Notes: Written in response to a friend's "Switcheroo" challenge. Write "a Day in the Life" of the E Crew, but switch them around so they're doing a different job. This fic will sound strange because of it, but please bear with me. Each chapter is told from a POV of a "changed" character.  
  
R/S and TnT  


* * *

**Captain Hoshi Sato**

Hoshi Sato, captain of the Enterprise, loved the early mornings. Tai-chi and meditation in Hydroponics, then a quick shower and a light breakfast in the Mess before her shift on the Bridge. On her way to the Mess Hall, she heard a tiny yipping sound down the hallway. A beagle raced down the corridor, heading straight towards her. Before she could react, he flopped down across her boots on his back, his tongue lolling out, eyes bright.

She cautiously looked around, then reached into her pocket. â€œHere, boy. Donâ€™t tell anyone, okay?â€ Then she popped a cheese cube into his mouth and patted Porthos on the head. â€œGood boy. Got away from your master again, hmmm?â€

There was the sound of running feet, then Porthosâ€™s master appeared at the end of the corridor. â€œSorry, Captain. He slipped his leash and decided to make a run for it.â€

â€œThatâ€™s all right, Lieutenant Archer.â€ She smiled at Porthos and gave the dog a final pat. He gazed at her with pleading eyes, but she shook her head. Defeated, Porthos twisted back onto his feet and trotted to Archerâ€™s feet. â€œSâ€™shlik torun, Lieutenant.â€

Archer smiled. â€œSâ€™shlik torun, Captain. Hwasâ€™su reun da?â€

â€œMy morning is well, thank you.â€ She allowed herself a maternal smile. Although Archer was older than she was, his cheerful enthusiasm made him seem ten years younger. He was always eager to meet new people, study new cultures, sometimes to the point of recklessness. Luckily, the other Bridge officers tempered his eagerness without stifling it.

â€œI understand that weâ€™re due to meet with the Luruns in three days?â€

â€œYes. Iâ€™ve already uplinked their cultural and language database to your station on the bridge, Jonathan. It appears weâ€™ve got some amazing similarities, but I want to make sure we donâ€™t have any problems during our meeting.â€

â€œIâ€™ll go over it and get back to you with my recommendations as soon as possible, Captain.â€

â€œThanks, Jonathan.â€ 

He whistled for Porthos, then the two of them strode down the corridor towards the turbolift. Hoshi laughed and shook her head; Jonathan Archer had become an important member of her crew, and she was glad he was aboard.

The Mess Hall was still relatively empty, but Hoshi spotted two people at a nearby table huddled over a PADD. Trip and Tâ€™Pol. _Hmmm...now thereâ€™s a contradiction of personalities if Iâ€™ve seen one._ The fiery Trip and coolly logical Tâ€™Pol, complete opposites, but somehow managing to forge a friendship as well as a working relationship. Hoshiâ€™s sharp hearing picked up the words â€œupgradeâ€, â€œphase cannonâ€, â€œnavigationâ€, â€œengineeringâ€ and â€œstubbornâ€. Obviously, Trip was blowing off some steam, while the Vulcan sat with her plomeek soup and listened patiently.

She entered the Captainâ€™s Mess to see her breakfast partner already waiting for her. â€œMalcolm.â€

He smiled at her and inclined his head. â€œCaptain.â€

â€œNo ranks in here, remember?â€ She nodded at Crewman Cunningham and the steward went to fill her usual order. â€œYou look tired.â€

â€œA few minor crises in the middle of the night, nothing to worry about,â€ he reassured her. â€œCommander Mayweather injured his ankle climbing the rock wall in the gym. Luckily, it was only a sprain. Then Crewman Taliferro from Hydroponics ended up with a few rose thorns in his hand while he was pruning the bushes. Crewman Wyles from the Armory came in with a slight plasma burn on hisâ€”ahem. Apparently, heâ€™d had an accident while training with the phase pistolâ€”â€œ

â€œAgain? Thatâ€™s the second time this month.â€

â€œThis time it wasnâ€™t his fault. One of his fellows dropped his phase pistol and it went offâ€”â€œ

â€œOh, good Lord. The man attracts more trouble than Trip does.â€ Hoshi smiled at Cunningham as he put a plate of fruit and a mug of green tea in front of her. She saw Malcolm give her breakfast a dubious look. â€œWhat?â€

â€œYour meal looks rather sparse. Will that be enough to tide you over until lunch?â€

She sighed, but then she saw the twinkle in his eye. â€œI could always add a slice of chocolate cheesecake, I suppose, if youâ€™re that concerned.â€

â€œAnd then Iâ€™d get a call from the Bridge when the sugar rush died down.â€

â€œSo there.â€ Hoshi shrugged and began to eat her breakfast. The two settled into easy conversation, chatting about all sorts of subjects. She listened as he talked about a new medical procedure; he commented on her first impressions of the Luruns. She enjoyed making new contacts as much as Jonathan Archer did and it was nice to find others who shared that interest.

The intercom whistled during a lull in the conversation. Hoshi shot an apologetic look at Malcolm as he rolled his eyes. She tabbed the button. â€œSato here.â€

â€œCommander Mayweather here. Iâ€™m in Science Lab One. Can you come down here for a moment?â€

A smile quirked on her lips. â€œOn my way, Travis. Sato out.â€ She wiped her mouth with her napkin. â€œSorry, Malcolm, duty calls.â€

â€œThatâ€™s quite all right; I should be getting back to work anyway. Lunch as usual?â€

â€œLunch as usual.â€ There was a genuine warmth in his gray-blue eyes that wasnâ€™t there very often. Hoshi promised herself that she would do what she could to melt that ice.

â€œIâ€™ll see you later.â€ She smiled at him and headed out of the captainâ€™s mess.


	2. First Officer/Science Officer Travis Mayweather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, from Travis's POV.

  
Author's notes: Another chapter, from Travis's POV.  
  
R/S implied  


* * *

****

First Officer/Science Officer Travis Mayweather

Commander Travis Mayweatherâ€™s second home was Science Lab One. If he wasnâ€™t on the Bridge, in the gym or the Mess Hall, he was there. At the moment, he sat at one of the stations as he analyzed the scans of the Urathan Nebula. He stared at the screen with child-like wonder and joy. The bright reds and oranges danced on the screen and reflected off Travisâ€™s dark eyes. _Now_ this _is why I joined Starfleet, to see the wonders of the Universe._

â€œBeautiful, isnâ€™t it, Travis?â€ asked a soft voice behind him.

He grinned and glanced over his shoulder. Captain Hoshi Sato leaned casually in the doorway, her uniform neat as a pin, her long black hair up in a braided bun. At their first meeting, heâ€™d thought she didnâ€™t seem to be old enough to be a captain, despite the four pips on her collar. Then he noticed the confidence in her eyes, the steel under the soft voice. People tended to underestimate Captain Sato, until they found out otherwise.

He chuckled and waved towards the screen. â€œThat it is, Captain. Lemme show you something. See these variables? These are definitely not the norm for a Class Two nebula. Iâ€™m trying to compile all the scans and calculate the variances. Thereâ€™s something about this one thatâ€™s got me curious.â€

Hoshi frowned. â€œThatâ€™s the Urathan Nebula, not too far from the Lurun homeworld, isnâ€™t it?â€

â€œThatâ€™s right. Thought Iâ€™d run a couple of scans since we were going past it anyway, compare it to the baseline that was taken by the first survey team.â€ He tapped some keys on the computer; the screen split into two parts. â€œThe baseline is on the left, with all the relevant information that was gathered on it. Our new scans are on the right.â€

At first glance, the visuals of the nebula looked the same. Then Hoshi compared the two lists of data. â€œThe radiation levels are different. Itâ€™s gone up. You think that might be the source of the problem?â€

â€œIâ€™m looking into the possibility. Thatâ€™s close to a major trade route between Rymerâ€™s World and Itharia, not to mention right in the middle of our course to Lurun. Iâ€™d suggest finding an alternate route around it, Hoshi. With these new radiation readings, Iâ€™m not inclined to get too close.â€

â€œAgreed.â€ She clapped a hand on his shoulder. â€œGood job, Travis.â€

â€œJust doing my job, maâ€™am.â€ He shrugged good-naturedly, then continued, â€œWe should drop off some warning buoys before we leave that area.. Iâ€™d hate to see anyone get too close and get a hefty dose of baryon particles.â€ As a Boomer, he was well aware of the effects of radiation poisoning on ship crews. Heâ€™d seen plenty of anomalies and other space artifacts growing up on a cargo ship.

â€œIâ€™ll contact Engineering.â€ She smiled, then changed the subject. â€œTravis, howâ€™s the crew doing? Everything all right?â€

He swiveled around in his chair to face her and stood at relaxed attention. He felt himself become more formal as he slipped into his â€œfirst officerâ€ mode. â€œRatings are at plus ones and plus one point fives across the board, maâ€™am. A few people have come in to talk, let off a little steam, but for the most part, moraleâ€™s pretty good right now.â€

â€œIâ€™m glad the crew can come to you.â€

â€œDonâ€™t sell yourself short, Hoshi. You know this crew will stand by you. Youâ€™re strong.â€ He gave her a broad grin and was relieved that she matched it. â€œThey all respect you.â€

â€œEven Ensign Tâ€™Pol?â€

â€œEven Tâ€™Pol.â€ A sudden thought made him sober. â€œNot many people can converse in her native language and can talk about Vulcan customs in an intelligent manner like you can. I think that means a lot to her, more than she lets on.â€

Hoshi gave him a thoughtful look. â€œYouâ€™re right. Iâ€™m considering inviting her to dinner, have Chef do a vegetarian menu, talk about language and philosophy. Get to know how she thinks, and not just how the Vulcan High Command wants her to think.â€

â€œI think thatâ€™s a good idea. Sheâ€™s an enigma to many people. Sometimes I think sheâ€™s more of one than Doctor Reed is, and thatâ€™s saying something.â€

â€œMalcolmâ€™s just reserved, but he does show some emotion,â€ Hoshi objected without thinking. If she hadnâ€™t been distracted by her thoughts about Tâ€™Pol, she would have seen a knowing look on her first officerâ€™s face. â€œWell, Iâ€™m off to the bridge. Call me if anything else comes up.â€

â€œWill do, Captain.â€ Travis gave her a mock salute, then turned back to his scientific data as she left the room. He shook his head and thought, _I wonder how long itâ€™ll take her to figure it out. Hell, I wonder how long itâ€™ll take the good doctor, â€˜cause I think everyone else sees it, but they donâ€™t._


	3. Chief Engineer Phlox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is Phlox's POV.

  
Author's notes: Here is Phlox's POV.  
  


* * *

****

Chief Engineer Phlox

Phlox of Denobula sat in his office and pored over the various reports that flooded his desk. â€œFascinating,â€ he murmured to himself. â€œIf this theory is correct, it could increase our top speed to at least Warp Seven. I wonder if we can modify the plasma injectors to compensate for the higher coolant ratiosâ€”â€œ

He sighed. All of the theories and simulations in the world wouldnâ€™t convince the Armory Officer to divert any more power to Engineering. Phlox couldnâ€™t blame him, for Phlox himself was reluctant to spare any extra power to the Armory for â€œsome really important fiddlinâ€™.â€

An undignified squawk from the corner of his office interrupted his musings. â€œYes, yes, I know. Well, I suppose itâ€™s time for your feeding, eh? Be patient. Iâ€™m sure the captain will be along shortly.â€ He heard a knock on his door and grinned widely. â€œEnter!â€

â€œI hope Iâ€™m not too late, Commander Phlox,â€ Hoshi Sato said. â€œI just got off-shift.â€

â€œNo, youâ€™re just in time. My Pyrithian bat was just reminding me to pull my head out of the world of warp theory and back into the real world.â€ Phlox laid the PADD aside with a small sigh. â€œThe engines are running just fine; I finally located that flux that was driving Misters Kelby and Rostov â€˜absolutely nutsoâ€™. It was a simple matter to correct once we identified the problem.â€

Hoshi chuckled at his turn of phrase as she carefully opened the batâ€™s cage. â€œâ€˜Absolutely nutsoâ€™. Let me guess. Rostov?â€

â€œIâ€™ve learned many turns of the vernacular from Mister Rostov, both polite and impolite. Being and engineer gives one plenty of opportunity to find names for parts that break down or donâ€™t work as they should.â€ 

â€œI can understand that, though if youâ€™re learning vernacular from Rostov, I suggest you double check with Lieutenant Archer before you use it in public.â€

â€œI shall certainly take Jonathanâ€™s advice under consideration.â€ Phlox promised. â€œFar be it for me to cause some kind of intergalactic incident.â€

â€œHmm...I suspect thatâ€™s more Lieutenant Commander Tuckerâ€™s specialty.â€

Phlox chuckled; her dry observation had a hint of truth. The Armory officer, more often than not, always got himself into trouble, and dragged Captain Sato, Commander Mayweather or Doctor Reed with him. Lately, though, Reed seemed to be the unfortunate one. _At least the Lieutenant Commander has the sense to include the doctor in his escapades, since it seems inevitable heâ€™d be in need of Doctor Reedâ€™s services before long._

â€œSo, has the engineering crew gotten used to your bat yet?â€

â€œWell, ever since she helped locate Crewman Holloway in the conduits not too long ago, theyâ€™ve admitted she has her uses.â€ 

Phlox had sent the Pyrithian bat into the bowels of the ship to find Holloway during a ship-wide emergency. The internal sensors had been off-line as well as communications. Not only did the bat find Holloway, but send back signals that Lieutenant Commander Tucker and Doctor Reed were able to track. Since then, the bat had been a mascot of sorts in the engineering department.

â€œYes, I suppose she does. Sheâ€™s immune to warp core radiation, isnâ€™t she?â€

â€œShe is, or Doctor Reed would have banned her from Engineering. I suppose the alternative would be housing her in Sickbay, but Iâ€™m afraid the good doctor has an objection to that.â€

â€œI think Malcolm prefers his Sickbay rodent-free, Phlox.â€ Hoshi chuckled. â€œAs long as she doesnâ€™t escape and go swooping on people in the corridors, thatâ€™s fine.â€ She glanced over her shoulder at him and asked, â€œHave you talked to Commander Mayweather?â€

â€œThe Commanderâ€™s informed me about the warning buoys. Lieutenant Hess and her team are programming those buoys as we speak. They should be ready to go when we reach the nebula.â€

â€œGood.â€

There was a hesitant knock on the door, then Lieutenant Michael Rostov stuck his head in. â€œCommander Phlox? The gremlin we saw before?â€

â€œâ€˜Gremlinâ€™?â€ He considered himself well-versed in engineering terminology, but this was the first heâ€™d heard of this. â€œAh, the flux problem?â€

â€œYeah, itâ€™s back. Kelbyâ€™s about to have a stroke out here.â€

â€œShall I page Doctor Reed?â€ Phlox asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice. If one of his staff was in serious medical dangerâ€”

â€œUh...just a figure of speech, sir. Kelbyâ€™s getting so frustrated that heâ€™s not sure what to make of it.â€

â€œIâ€™ll be right there, Mister Rostov.â€ He gave Hoshi a look of apology. â€œForgive me, Captain, but duty calls.â€

â€œGo take care of that problem. Iâ€™ll finish here, then grab a bite to eat. Iâ€™ve got phase pistol practice with Lieutenant Commander Tucker in an hour.â€

â€œVery well, then. I will see you later, Captain.â€ As followed Kelby to Main Engineering, he wondered briefly why the captain was holding back her laughter. Then he re-directed his thoughts to the â€œgremlinâ€ at hand.


	4. Armory Officer Charles "Trip" Tucker the Third

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Trip's POV

  
Author's notes: From Trip's POV  
  
R/S and TnT  


* * *

Armory Officer Charles â€œTripâ€ Tucker the Third

â€œEighty percent. Thatâ€™s pretty good, Capâ€™n,â€ said Lieutenant Commander Trip Tucker. The Armory Officer leaned on the holoprojector and studied the results on his PADD. He wore a bright grin and she returned it.

â€œThanks, Trip.â€ She thumbed the safety of the phase pistol and handed it back to him. â€œThose extra lessons are paying off in spades.â€

â€œYeah. Youâ€™re not hittinâ€™ the broad sides of barns anymore.â€ He laughed as she glared at him, and he raised his hands in surrender. She was so easy to bait, easier than Malcolm Reed. Of course, not many people could get away with teasing a starship captain who could whip your butt in aikido. â€œJust kiddinâ€™. Youâ€™re better than most other members of the crew.â€

â€œIs there anyone who hasnâ€™t qualified on the new phase pistols yet?â€

â€œJonâ€™s due for his second test. He didnâ€™t do too well on his first one. Some of the junior officers have the same problem as him. Heâ€™s so used to the old EM-33s that heâ€™s still compensating for the particle drift, even though you donâ€™t have to do that anymore. â€ Tripâ€™s brow furrowed in thought. â€œYou know, Doctor Reedâ€™s scores are almost as good as yours or mine.â€

She raised her eyebrows. â€œMalcolm? Thatâ€™s odd for a medical officer.â€

â€œI think he said somethinâ€™ to the effect of him â€˜knowinâ€™ exactly where to shoot, if itâ€™s necessaryâ€™. I guess beinâ€™ a doctor has its advantages.â€ He hid a smile; the Enterpriseâ€™s chief medical officer was full of surprises. â€œHonestly, though, Iâ€™m glad I donâ€™t have to worry about our CMO defending himself. Thatâ€™s one less thing I gotta be concerned about in a dangerous situation.â€ 

â€œThatâ€™s a good thing. Considering you two seem to get into trouble a lot of the time. The crewâ€™s dubbed you with a new name.â€

â€œAgain? Last week it was â€˜Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumâ€™. The week before that, it was â€˜General MacArthur and Lord Admiral Nelsonâ€™. What is it this week?â€ 

â€œThe Disaster Twins.â€

Trip snorted, then he considered the moniker and said, â€œWell, I guess thatâ€™s better than the other ones. Itâ€™s shorter and it kinda has a ring to it.â€

Hoshi laughed, then became serious again. â€œHow are the weapon upgrades coming along?â€

â€œNearly finished there, Capâ€™n. Hereâ€™re the updates.â€ Trip switched screens on his PADD and handed it to Hoshi. â€œRan a few simulations. Looks like the port phase cannonâ€™s better by about seven percent. Unfortunately, the starboard oneâ€™s gonna take some more fiddlinâ€™ around. Itâ€™s beginninâ€™ to be a real pain in the behind, if ya know what I mean.â€

Hoshi grunted. â€œI know you canâ€™t sleep if the phase cannons arenâ€™t working just right, but try not to overdo it, okay? I know you hate Sickbay with a passionâ€”â€œ

â€œConsiderinâ€™ I seem to be a frequent enough visitor.â€ Tripâ€™s voice was dry. â€œAt the very least, I can go bug Malâ€”Doctor Reed, I mean. Manâ€™s got a bedside manner, if you dig deep enough.â€

She laughed. â€œDonâ€™t even start. Malcolm cares about the welfare of every member of this crew.â€

â€œYeah, I know, but itâ€™s fun to see whatâ€™s behind that stiff British facade of his. I know he takes his job seriously, a little too seriously sometimes.â€ Trip believed that Malcolm Reed was one of the best doctors to come out of Starfleet Medical, bar none. A meticulous researcher with a gruff exterior, but he also had a sensitive soul. Trip recalled many times talking with him after a medical crisis of some sort; the man took his job _very_ seriously.

â€œSeems like youâ€™re the only one who keeps him off the deep end, Capâ€™n.â€

She shrugged. â€œIâ€™m the captain. Itâ€™s my job to make sure my crew is in top shape. And speaking of, Iâ€™d like to hear your thoughts about a personnel matter.â€

â€œPersonal?â€

â€œThat too.â€ She told him about her thoughts about inviting Tâ€™Pol to dinner. Trip tried to keep his expression one of polite interest, but he found himself making suggestions to the captain about Vulcan food and customs. It was only fair, he thought, that Hoshi be informed as much as possible. It was only when he realized he was talking more than she was that he broke off with a blush.

â€œSorry, Capâ€™n. I kinda got carried away. Itâ€™s just that Iâ€™ve been talkinâ€™ with Tâ€™Pol a lot lately, yâ€™know, tryinâ€™ to make her feel more at home, but she just sits there with this cool look on her face, so Iâ€™m not sure if sheâ€™s even listeninâ€™, or if sheâ€™s just toleratinâ€™ me.â€ He shrugged. â€œThe second one, I suppose.â€

Hoshi inclined her head and regarded him with a thoughtful look. â€œTell me, does she interrupt you while youâ€™re talking?â€

â€œInterrupt me? No, but I figured that was just Vulcan courtesy.â€

â€œDoes she tell you to leave? Get lost? â€˜Thank you, Lieutenant Commander, but I have to program new navigational courses, preferably for Shuttlepod One, so you can find a distant star to orbit on your next Away mission?â€™â€

Trip laughed at her dead-on impression of the Vulcan navigator. â€œUm...no. I wouldnâ€™t put it past her, though.â€

â€œBut she hasnâ€™t done it. Yet. And she seems to listen to you, even if she doesnâ€™t say much. I donâ€™t think she just tolerates your presence, Trip.â€ Hoshi gave him a bright grin. â€œThatâ€™s why Iâ€™d like to invite you to this meal. I think Tâ€™Pol would feel more comfortable if she sees a familiar face there.â€

â€œSure, if you think I wonâ€™t be gettinâ€™ in the way.â€ He tried to keep his voice casual, but he knew he failed utterly. Time for a strategic retreat. â€œWell, Iâ€™m gonna run a few more trials on the starboard cannon.â€

She nodded. â€œCarry on, Lieutenant Commander. Iâ€™ll take your recommendations about Vulcan cuisine and customs under consideration, and Iâ€™ll let you know when that dinner is scheduled.â€

â€œI appreciate it, Capâ€™n.â€ The comm panel whistled; Trip immediately answered it. "Tucker."

"Lieutenant Commander, is the Captain there?" came Jon Archer's voice. The lieutenant's tone was calm, but he could hear an underlying tension beneath it.

"I'm right here, Lieutenant," Hoshi replied. "What is it, Jon?"

"Could you both come up here to the Bridge? I've found something in the Luran First Contact Protocols that you need to be aware of."

They glanced at each other. If there was a potential problem with first contacts, Jonathan Archer was the one who usually found it before it became a problem. "On our way, Jon. Sato, out."

Trip closed the channel. "Jon's a good guy. He's smart, thinks on his feet, cares for everyone like he's their big brother. Think he'll be a good captain someday?"

Hoshi's smile was bittersweet. "If he can learn to put aside his empathy when the situation warrants it, he could."


	5. Comm Officer Jonathan Archer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Jon Archer's POV

  
Author's notes: From Jon Archer's POV  
  
R/S and TnT  


* * *

****

Communications Officer Jonathan Archer

Jon Archer read the protocols a second time, then a third. With a sigh, he called Captain Sato and Lieutenant Commander Tucker to the Bridge. _Nope, I wasnâ€™t seeing things. Tripâ€™s going to have a fit when he sees this._

â€œIs there a problem, Lieutenant?â€

He glanced at Ensign Tâ€™Pol at the helm station. The Vulcan raised one elegant eyebrow at him in curiosity and concern. He managed a slight smile at her; although Vulcan tradition insisted otherwise, he knew that Tâ€™Pol had emotions like the rest of them. She only hid it better.

â€œJust read something disturbing in the first contact protocols for the Lurans,â€ he told her. â€œI wanted to make sure the captain knew about it before she stepped into trouble.â€

Tâ€™Pol nodded. â€œThat is a wise thing, Lieutenant. What seems trivial to one species is a grave concern to another.â€

He smiled at her understanding. â€œYouâ€™re definitely correct there, and this might be one of those cases.â€ Archer glanced over his shoulder as the doors to the lift hissed open and Captain Sato and Lieutenant Commander Tucker came onto the Bridge. Trip gave him a friendly grin and he returned it. The manâ€™s enthusiasm for life was infectious and Archer appreciated it because he saw it in himself.

_Heâ€™s probably the most unlikely Armory Officer in the Fleet, he reflected. If anything, heâ€™d rather talk his way out of situations with his Southern charm, but if that fails, he wonâ€™t hesitate to defend the ship and its crew by any means necessary._

â€œWhat do we have, Lieutenant?â€ Captain Sato asked.

Archer gave her a PADD with the information on it. Tucker leaned on the console and looked over Satoâ€™s shoulder. â€œAccording to this, the Lurans are so steeped in tradition that they only allow Luran weapons on the planet. No phase pistols, no phase rifles...just whips and chains.â€

â€œWhips and chains?â€ Hoshi repeated. 

â€œNot what you think, Captain,â€ Jon said, failing to hold back a grin. â€œApparently, Luran males wear heavy chains like bandoliers on their chest. Itâ€™s a test of manhood, along with the seven swords and daggers they carry around with them...and women carry studded electric whips in leather holders.â€

Trip muttered something under his breath that Jon didnâ€™t catch, but Hoshi only chuckled in response. â€œAhem. Interesting,â€ she said.

â€œAnd it gets better, Captain. They allow medical equipment...as long as theyâ€™re needles. No hyposprays.â€

Trip scowled. â€œWhatâ€™s up with the sharp points?â€

Jonâ€™s grin grew wider as he replied, â€œThey consider a â€˜pointâ€™ the ultimate sign of enlightenment. Mountain peaks come up to a point, for example. One of their holy men was supposed to have sat on a pointed stake for three cyclesâ€”thatâ€™s thirty-six daysâ€”with hardly a scratch.â€

â€œOuch,â€ Trip muttered. â€œThe guyâ€™s poor butt mustâ€™ve been sore.â€

Hoshi coughed in an attempt to cover her laughter. â€œWell, youâ€™re going to be armed to the teeth, Trip. That should make you happy.â€

â€œYeah, but I canâ€™t move around under all that weight, Capâ€™n. Thatâ€™s like putting a whole suit of armor over your underwear. Chafes ya like all get out.â€

Jon sighed and scrolled his screen down. â€œThey refer to their security men as â€œfawh-dehrâ€. Itâ€™s supposed to be a title of respect because it conveys the danger and uncertainty of their position.â€

â€œFawh-dehr? Iâ€™m not crazy about being anyoneâ€™s fodder, cannon or otherwise.â€

Hoshi finally lost it and she began to laugh. It spread all over the Bridge, except for Tâ€™Pol, who only looked at them with a bemused (and confused) expression. Trip took pity on her and said, â€œIâ€™ll explain later, Tâ€™Pol. I promise.â€

Jon glanced at Hoshi. â€œDonâ€™t think you can get away unscathed, Captain,â€ he said in mock sternness. â€œThe main representative gets to make a speechâ€”â€œ

â€œDoesnâ€™t sound too difficult.â€

â€œâ€”an eight-thousand word affair in three different dialects, and you have to get every stress and intonation completely correct.â€

Hoshi looked at him. â€œAnd Iâ€™ve got three days to do this?â€

â€œYes, maâ€™am. All in three days. Donâ€™t worry, I can help you with it. The Lurans sent over the copies of the welcome speech in all the dialects. Oh, and youâ€™ve got to crack your whip at the appropriate pauses to fight off your admirersâ€”â€œ

â€œWHAT?â€

â€œOh boy. Malcolmâ€™s gonna have a field day,â€ Trip muttered again.

â€œI heard that.â€ Hoshi growled. She sighed and shook her head. â€œI suppose Iâ€™m gonna need whip lessons, then.â€

â€œDonâ€™t look at me. That ainâ€™t in my arsenal, and I sure know it ainâ€™t standard equipment in the Armory.â€

Tâ€™Pol cleared her throat. â€œIf I may make a suggestion, Captain?â€ 

â€œGo ahead, Ensign.â€

â€œThere are Vulcan weapons similar to a whip, such as the _ahn-woon_. With your and Lieutenant Commander Tuckerâ€™s permission, I may be able to help you gain the necessary skills.â€

Hoshi met Tâ€™Polâ€™s gaze. Jon cleared his throat and added, â€œThat would help a lot, Ensign. I didnâ€™t think about the _ahn-woon_ , but youâ€™re right. Itâ€™s a similar enough weapon.â€

The captain nodded. â€œAll right, then. Time for some _ahn-woon_ lessons. All right with you, Trip?â€

â€œSure, sâ€™long as I get some lessons too. Yâ€™never know when a new skill might come in handy.â€

Jon tried to hide his smile as Tâ€™Pol raised her eyebrow again, but he noticed that she didnâ€™t object to the request. Heâ€™d had plenty of opportunity to observe the navigator and the armory officer, and thought there might be a glimmer of more than just friendship there.

_Opposites attract, I guess. That seems to be going on all over the ship._ Trip Tucker and Tâ€™Pol. Captain Sato and Doctor Reed. Jonathan Archer did his best to encourage both couples, without making it obvious, of course. He was only a lieutenant, after all, but that seemed to be adequate cover for his efforts. It was his nature to see his friends happy and he took it upon himself to help it happen. 

â€œAgreed. My shift is ended in forty minutes. Perhaps we can have a short practice session then?â€

â€œThat sounds agreeable. Meet me in Cargo Bay Two, Ensign.â€

â€œYes, Captain.â€

After Sato and Tucker left the bridge, he exchanged a nod with Ensign Tâ€™Pol. Then he turned back to the first contact protocols. There seemed to be no more hidden surprises, but he decided to go over it one more time, just in case.


	6. Helm/Navigation Officer T'Pol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From T'Pol's POV. It includes her thoughts on Trip.

  
Author's notes: From T'Pol's POV. It includes her thoughts on Trip.  
  
TnT  


* * *

****

Helm/Navigation Officer T'Pol

Ensign Tâ€™Pol concentrated on the weight and the heft of the _ahn-woon_. It had been a few years since she had handled one of these, but she remembered the basics of the weapon. The heavy bells on one end of it chimed as she swung it over her head, then snapped it outward. Slowly, she went through a series of exercises, imagining the enemy in her mind's eye, seeing him going down in the onslaught of precise maneuvers. Then she made it into a loop and wrapped it around the enemy's neck until he moved no more.

It was a lethal dance, one that Vulcans had done for millennia. When the Vulcans were a race of savages, they used a variety of weapons in their various wars. Now it was used in the _koon-ut-kal-if-fee_ , the marriage or challenge. Despite herself, T'Pol edged away from the very thought. No Human had ever witnessed a Vulcan marriage; no Human could understand that one time in a Vulcan's life when logic was just not enough.

_No, that is not completely true,_ she corrected herself. Against her will, she remembered a conversation in the Armory, a year ago:

_â€œWhat do ya call these things again?_ Lirpas?â€

_â€œThat is correct, Lieutenant Commander.â€_

_â€œNasty lookinâ€™ things.â€ Trip Tucker gave the weapon an experimental swing, being careful about its weight on one end and the wicked blade on the other. â€œI can see why the Vulcans used this for thousands of years. One blow on your skull and thatâ€™s it for ya.â€_

_She had been surprised at the respectful tone of his voice. â€œIndeed. It takes an amount of manual dexterity to handle the_ lirpa _, for it could be just as harmful to the wielder himself. So, shall we begin?â€_

To her surprise, Trip not only became somewhat proficient in the _lirpa_ , but he showed an interest in all things Vulcan. He asked insightful questions, and while he would always have an accent, his spoken Vulcan was adequate. She admitted to herself that while he reminded her of an enthusiastic guard _sehlat_ , he showed an uncanny sensitivity to cultural issues. 

Just like another man she knew. Jonathan Archer had worked with Ambassador Soval at the Vulcan Consulate in San Francisco, a respected diplomat and cultural liaison. Tâ€™Pol didnâ€™t know what Captain Sato had said to convince Archer to leave such an esteemed position and join Starfleet so late in life. 

â€œCaptain Sato has given me a logical argument for this,â€ Soval had told her, â€œand while I have a certain reluctance to allow Archer to join the Enterprise crew, I believe he will gain more experience among the stars than at the Consulate.â€

She had her doubts at the time, but now she acknowledged Hoshi Satoâ€™s valuable insight. Archer was a worthy addition to the crew and a worthy friend.

â€œEnsign? Are you all right? Whatâ€™s on your mind?â€

Tâ€™Pol turned to see Captain Sato standing there in workout clothes. She decided to answer the captainâ€™s question. â€œI am all right, Captain. I was pondering a few enigmas among the crew.â€

Sato smiled at the word â€œenigmaâ€, although Tâ€™Pol couldnâ€™t think of a reason why. â€œWhich ones?â€

â€œLieutenant Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Archer. Both men are Human, but are curious about Vulcan culture. It is not a common trait among Humans to be so accepting of customs not their own.â€

Satoâ€™s smile was mysterious as she replied, â€œTrip and Jon are both explorers, Tâ€™Pol. Look at it from Tripâ€™s point of view as an Armory Officer. Vulcans are our allies, and the more we can learn about your ways of war and defense, the better we can defend ourselves. And Jonâ€”â€œ she shrugged, â€œâ€”he hasnâ€™t always been so open-minded. I think working with Soval has broadened his horizons.â€

Tâ€™Pol inclined her head. â€œI did not know that. If I may ask, how did you convince him to join _Enterprise_? I assumed he was content to stay at the Consulate.â€

â€œThe lure of the unknown, the possibility of meeting new peoples and new cultures. Heâ€™s meant for the stars. As Trip said, â€˜better late than neverâ€™." She chuckled and lifted the _ahn-woon_ in her hands. â€œThis is a strange-looking whip, T'Pol, but my experience has told me that simple doesn't mean harmless."

"Indeed. It is also used as a sling or a garrotte, if the situation warrants it."

Sato shivered as she continued to examine the weapon, as if she was using her imagination on how it was done. "An efficient weapon."

"Very much so. We are now a peaceful race built upon the tenets of logic, but long ago, we were emotional, uncontrolled..." T'Pol's mouth tightened slightly, though her voice remained steady. "That time is long past."

The captain said nothing, though her eyes shone with curiosity about Vulcan's past. Sato's discretion was one of her strong points. "So, how do I handle this thing without killing myself?â€

Tâ€™Pol did not smile, but she raised an eyebrow. â€œLet me adjust your stance and grip, Captain. Now, watch carefully...â€

She guided Sato through the simplest of exercises. To her surprise, the captain was soon snapping the _ahn-woon_ with sharp, efficient wrist movements. Sato did have some natural ability, coming from her martial arts background, but mastering the _ahn-woon_ still took years of practice.

Tâ€™Pol felt another set of eyes on her as she demonstrated another technique to Sato. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Trip Tucker watching her closely. Not her _ahn-woon_. Her. The Armory Officer sat on a cargo container near the practice area. She didnâ€™t acknowledge his scrutiny, but watched him in turn under lowered lids.

She had described Trip as an enigma, which was a contradiction in itself. Tâ€™Pol wondered just how many people knew what lay behind the Armory Officerâ€™s good-natured, joking exterior. There was so much that was hidden, despite his seeming openness. If she closed her eyes, she could feel his presence: intense, protective, curious. It reminded her of a fiery sun in the coolness of space.

And like any celestial body, its gravity attracted anything in its orbit. A new question formed in her mind: _Why do I choose to stay within his orbit? He is Human, not Vulcan. He is a lieutenant commander, I am a mere ensign. Yet I find myself as curious about him as he is about me. Why is that?_

_Perhaps I need to gather more empirical evidence before I make my conclusions._

All too soon, she had to bring the training session to an end. â€œThat will be sufficient for now, Captain. I believe you have the foundations for further training, if you wish.â€

Sato nodded and flexed her aching hand. â€œPerhaps Iâ€™ll take you up on that offer, Ensign. Oh, do you have anything scheduled for tomorrow night?â€

Tâ€™Pol raised an eyebrow again. â€œNo, Captain.â€

â€œIâ€™d like to invite you and Lieutenant Commander Tucker to dinner at the captainâ€™s table. Chefâ€™s put together a vegetarian menu. Iâ€™m curious to hear your view of Human/Vulcan relations. Maybe you can teach us a thing or two.â€

She carefully hid her surprise, though she glanced briefly at Trip. _Is this his idea? Captain Sato has never invited me to her table before this._ Aloud she replied, â€œI would be honored, Captain.â€

â€œGood. Nineteen hundred hours?â€

â€œI will be there, Captain.â€ She busied herself with coiling her _ahn-woon_ as she overheard Trip talking with Sato.

â€œYou oughta let Malcolm take a look at that cut before it gets infected, Hoshi. Tâ€™Pol wasnâ€™t kiddinâ€™ when she said the _ahn-woon_ qualifies as a dangerous weapon.â€

â€œIâ€™ll stop by Sickbay before turning in for the night. If I donâ€™t and Malcolm sees this, heâ€™ll lecture me on that time on Optimus Prime and those nasty nanobots that got into my hand.â€

Trip winced. â€œYeah, I remember. He has a reason to be paranoid after that.â€

â€œGood night, Trip. Good night, Tâ€™Pol. Thank you for the lesson.â€

â€œYouâ€™re welcome, Captain,â€ Tâ€™Pol said, remembering the human courtesy. She finished securing her weapon, expecting Trip to leave after the captain. He remained there, looking at her. â€œLieutenant Commander?â€

â€œI was watchinâ€™ you with the _ahn-woon_ and I thought you handled it pretty gracefully. I guess it takes lots of practice to get good with it.â€

â€œIt takes years, sir,â€ she replied. She didnâ€™t want to look into his eyes, but something compelled her to do so. His eyes were the blue of a very hot flame. 

â€œIâ€™m willinâ€™ to learn. How about if we arrange a time where I can get a crack at it, so to speak?â€ His smile was genuine and warm and held no trace of sarcasm. Tâ€™Pol found it...intriguing.

Being a Vulcan, she did not smile back, but she only replied, â€œOf course, Lieutenant Commander. Most of my evenings are free. We can start tomorrow night, if you wish.â€


	7. Chief Medical Officer Malcolm Reed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Malcolm's POV. Any resemblance to a deleted scene from "Broken Bow" is wholly intentional! :)

  
Author's notes: From Malcolm's POV. Any resemblance to a deleted scene from "Broken Bow" is wholly intentional! :)  
  
R/S and TnT  


* * *

****

Chief Medical Officer Malcolm Reed

Sickbay was quiet at this hour. Malcolm Reed sat at the computer with a cup of tea and a half-eaten pineapple scone. He scheduled a whole slate of crew physicals in the coming days; though he didnâ€™t anticipate any objections from most of the crew, there were a few who might need more...convincing.

 _Trip Tucker, for one. By hook or by crook, he_ will _come in for that physical, even if I have to pull rank on him to do it._ His mouth twitched into a slight smirk at the challenge. The Armory Officer was adept at avoiding him, but Malcolm knew a few tricks that Trip didnâ€™t.

A soft knock on his door broke into his thoughts. He glanced at the clock and prepared himself for another long night. â€œEnter,â€ he called.

â€œI hope Iâ€™m not interrupting, Malcolm,â€ Hoshi said as she came into the office.

â€œOf course not.â€ His sharp eyes immediately spotted the cut on her hand. â€œYouâ€™re injured. What happened?â€

â€œEnsign Tâ€™Pol was giving me some _ahn-woon_ lessons,â€ she answered, gingerly holding her hand with the other. She told him about the Luran customs that she had learned from Jon Archer. A vision of Hoshi with a whip in her hand threatened to turn his smirk into a full-blown grin. Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face.

â€œLet me see your hand,â€ he commanded in a gentle voice and took her hand within his own. Carefully, he examined every finger, the palm, the back of her hand. The clinical part of him assessed the shallow cut high on her palm, the calluses and blisters on the fingers where sheâ€™d gripped the whip handle too tightly. The rest of him noticed how smooth the rest of her skin was...

â€œMmmm. I donâ€™t believe youâ€™ll lose any fingers,â€ he murmured, â€œbut we need to clean those scratches before they become infected. Come on, letâ€™s take care of it.â€

As she sat on one of the biobed, he picked up the dermal regenerator and got to work. They slipped into their usual routine, she telling him about the dayâ€™s events while he listened. Her summaries were always precise, but she emphasized her stories with graceful hand movements. Occasionally, she would mimic the voices of the crew, making him chuckle. 

â€œI would suspect our dear Armory Officer has more than just a casual interest in our navigator,â€ he commented. â€œAs much as they argue at times, they tolerate each otherâ€™s quirks.â€

â€œLike a married couple,â€ Hoshi agreed wryly. â€œIâ€™ve invited both of them to dinner tomorrow night. A cultural exchange, if you will.â€

â€œTripâ€™s idea?â€ he asked, surprised.

â€œIâ€™d been thinking about it, but it was something Travis said that decided it for me. He described Tâ€™Pol as an â€˜enigmaâ€™ and that it might be in our best interests if we got to know her better.â€

Malcolm nodded sagely. Travis Mayweather was a frequent visitor to Sickbay, but unlike Trip, it wasnâ€™t always because of injury. The first officer often asked about the health and welfare of the Enterprise crew.â€œTravis picks up on things that most people donâ€™t. Itâ€™s a useful skill for a first officer.â€

â€œYes.â€ She wiggled her fingers and smiled at the results. â€œThanks, Malcolm.â€

â€œYouâ€™re quite welcome.â€ He noticed that she didnâ€™t let go of his hand and then she leaned her head against his shoulder. After a quick glance around to make sure Lieutenant Liz Cutler was safely in the lab, he wrapped an arm around her and held her, gently resting his cheek against her hair. 

_She works too hard,_ he thought. As shipâ€™s captain, Hoshi Sato was brilliant and resourceful, but it was a lonely position. Hoshi was warm and congenial, though she had to hold herself apart even as her soul wanted the contact. He vowed to himself to help her shoulder that burden.

In the interest of the ship and her crew, of course.

_Who the bloody hell are you kidding? Open your eyes, you sodding idiot._ And on the heels of that thought came Trip Tuckerâ€™s voice, _Malcolm, youâ€™re as blind as a bat on a bright summer day._ He shuddered. _Ugh. Letâ€™s not think of bats._

â€œWhatâ€™s wrong?â€

â€œFor some reason, I had a thought of Phloxâ€™s bat in my mind. Iâ€™ve never been fond of that little bugger, but she does have her uses.â€

She looked at him with a look of mock amazement and punched him lightly on the shoulder. â€œI give you a hug and you think of Phloxâ€™s bat?â€

â€œNot in that way, Hoshi!â€ He sounded outraged, but he caught the mischief in her eye and roared in laughter. That set her off and they both laughed so hard that their sides hurt.

â€œIs everything all right, Doctor?â€ Liz Cutler asked as she stuck her head out of the lab. She smiled at the captain and the chief medical officer and answered her own question. â€œYeah, I guess everythingâ€™s okay.â€ Then she retreated back into the lab and shut the door again.

They exchanged a look, then Hoshi squeezed his hand. â€œI ought to get some sleep. Morning comes early.â€

He nodded, then reluctantly let go. â€œGood night, Hoshi. Pleasant dreams.â€

â€œYou too. See you tomorrow.â€ She gave him a kiss on the cheek then left Sickbay, casting a fond look over her shoulder. 

He sighed and stared after her long after she had disappeared. â€œSleep well, love,â€ he murmured.


End file.
